


Heat of the moment

by nimrod262



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Rough Sex, Strong Language, partners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25066759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimrod262/pseuds/nimrod262
Summary: A Chris POV short for #July1stNivanfieldDay on tumblr. NSFW and strong language as Chris decides on a short-term plan.
Relationships: Piers Nivans/Chris Redfield
Kudos: 13





	Heat of the moment

Unusually for me, I’m staring into the bottom of a half-empty wine glass. This is unusual because I normally finish a glass in one go. Trouble is, I’ve been thinking instead of drinking. Piers and me have been discussing the future, our future. He likes to think long-term. Me, not so much. My immediate future is, have I had too much wine, or not enough? Sure, I’ve got another plan, but it only goes as far as the next hour, if things work out. Or, perhaps I could … ? No! That’s enough Redfield! You can do too much thinking. Just drink your drink and start the plan, Ok? The future will be what it will be, without any assistance from you … Be happy you’ve at least got the next sixty minutes mapped out. On my mark then, three, two, one, go!

I lean over and blow into his ear, before slipping my tongue in. It’s always been a chink in his armor. And being a soldier, it’s in my nature to exploit any weak spot. He moans in response. So far, so good. I nibble his ear lobe and I can feel him tremble. Good just got better.

I whisper softly. “You get some more wine and I’ll get rid of the Ruffster.”

“Sounds like a plan coming on … You gonna get me drunk?” His eyes are bright with anticipation.

“Drunk on love.” I rub my thumb across his full lips.

“Then I’m an alcoholic.”

“Ha! And I’m the barkeep! Mwah!”

“Remember our positions …” I say, as he springs up. “… I wanna carry on from exactly where we left off.”

I follow his ass into the kitchen. "Grrr!” I let out an appreciative growl. I can’t help myself. It always has that effect on me!

Whilst I fill up Ruff’s bowl with some chow, Piers is bent down, getting the wine out of the chiller. I pause to ogle. His ass is truly exquisite. It might just be a complex mix of concave and convex curves. Or simply the biological synergy of sinew and muscle. All I know is, it’s fucking beautiful! And I also know that if I touch it now, I’ll end up taking him just where he stands, plan or no plan. It wouldn’t be the first time. But I manage to hold on till I’ve put Ruff out in the yard. We brush past each other in the kitchen door, well, actually it’s more like frottage. He smirks and I grin, we’re both tenting.

“Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?” he says, pushing his crotch forward against mine.

“Mmm, it’s my own personal weapon. Large calibre, two chambers.”

“Cocked?”

“There’s always one in the spout.”

“Heh, heh, I love it when you try and talk ‘dirty’ technical.”

“Ha! Says the man who named his anti-materiel rifle 'Tophie’!”

“Um, I’d really like to handle it.”

“Later. You gotta be careful, it sometimes goes off prematurely.”

He smirks. “So I notice.”

I look down. Damn! He’s right. I’m already dribbling, in expectation of what’s in store … Hey, it is _my_ plan!

We go back into the living room and he places the Sancerre hurriedly on the mantel. We don’t bother with resuming our positions though. We simply tear the clothes off each other where we stand. I push him down, quickly work in some lube, and enter him without too much ceremony.

It’s rough, it’s noisy, and it’s messy. I did say it was my plan!

I start pumping, and we quickly get in sync.

“Ungh!”

“Ouff!”

“Ungh! Ouff …Unff!”

“Unff, Unff, Unff, Unff!”

We hit our stride together. As my fingers dig into his flesh, I feel my nuts tighten.

“Fuck-Yeah Ace!”

90 secs, and it’s all over. And so is my plan, so much for an hour!

We collapse into a sweaty, happy heap. I blink away the sweat from my eyes. “Sorry hun, that was a bit rushed.”

“S'ok. Bear’s gotta do.”

“I thought it would last longer. It’s just that sometimes I need a …”

“A quick fuck?”

“Ha, yeah. Er, you might have some …”

“Some bruises?”

“Um … sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Once I feel myself start to soften I roll off him, then pull him in close for a cuddle. I can hear him inhaling sharply, he’s taking in my scent, seeking the source. It guides him to an armpit. He sucks the aroma in, then nips me there gently.

“Aah, shit!”

I melt like putty in his hands. Yeah, I got weak spots too. Pits, nips, Piers’ ass … my brain … I mean my _brain_ brain, not my dick! Ok, that as well.

“My turn now.” he chuckles.

I roll onto my back, arms stretched out in submission, and he gets himself astride me, sitting on my cock. “Let’s see what you got in reserve.” He smiles purposefully. Then pumps up and down and calmly proceeds to bust my nuts. When he’s finished I can barely speak. And I wouldn’t even attempt to walk!

“Tanks empty?” he asks. I nod weakly. “Roll over!” he orders. I do as he says. I can’t even put up a fight. He pulls my ass up and bang, he’s straight in. He doesn’t even bother with the K.Y. He’s giving as good as he got. He knows it, and he’s making sure I do too. It’s a relationship of equals, that’s why it works so well. Which doesn’t mean we can’t spice it up now and then.

“Huff!”

“Have you even started yet?

"Huff!”

“Nope, still can’t feel a … Ungh! Oh my God!”

“You _can’t_ take it old man.”

“Pfft, in your dreams, pretty boy.”

 **Pzzt**!

“Aah! Fuck Piers, not the shock treatment!”

“Give?”

“No dammit! Gah!”

 **Fzzzt**! “Now?”

“No!”

“How bout now?” **Zzapp**!

“Nah … argh! Yes, yes!”

“You’re getting worse. I wasn’t even trying.”

“Perhaps I let you?”

“Yeah, that’ll be the day.”

“It’s a good job I haven’t got electric fingers!”

“Just as well, the way you scratch yourself in the morning.”

“Oi!”

“Heh, heh! Don’t ever change Bear. Promise me?”

“I thought you were fixing me up?”

“It’s a work in progress.”

“A lifetime’s work?”

“Hmm. Let’s just say it’s ongoing.”

“You’ve got my future all planned out haven’t you?”

“Pretty much. Some of it’s still sketchy, but the next hour is gonna be good.”

“That’s kinda short-term for you.”

“You’ve inspired me. You always have.”

“Thanks.”

“My pleasure. And your’s too, for the next 60 minutes.”

And so it was …

… It’s later, after our love making. I’m looking down at him. He’s sleeping now. Stretched out alongside me, all 5’ 10’’ of him. Still lean, sculpted rather than overly muscular. He’s got the body of a gymnast, not a weightlifter. Even here, just lying on the hearth rug in front of the fire, slumbering after our sex, he looks perfect in my eyes. I’m a lucky man. Giving him sex is one way I can say thank you.

He frowns slightly, his full lips pouting in his sleep. He’s probably thinking. He never stops. There’s always something going on inside that remarkable brain of his. But it only shows when he’s asleep. Revealing expressions flit across his handsome face. It’s the only time he’s not consciously in control.And it’s the only time I get to read his thoughts, if he chooses not to tell me. It’s my little secret. He thinks I snore on all through the night. I often do. But not every night. Some nights, I lie awake and look at him, like I’m on watch. Letting him dream his dreams, keeping his nightmares at bay. And I’m pretty sure he does the same for me. One of his secrets.

Some secrets are good of course. But others, like the nightmares we never speak off, are bad, very bad.

I don’t know if either of us will ever be totally free from them. We’ve seen too much, experienced more in the ten years we’ve been partners than most people see in a lifetime. And I don’t know if time is a great healer. It helps I guess. But not as much as sharing your life with a partner like Piers Nivans. And if, at some point in the distant future, we are finally healed, I can’t visualize it. I don’t have the imagination, I’m not even sure Piers does, not fully. But he has faith, and that’s infectious. Me? I’ve got ignorance, and that’s bliss, so they say. Whoever the hell _they_ are!

I look at this beautiful sleeping prince and smile, because that’s what looking at him makes me do. It also makes me do other things it would appear. Sweet Jesus! Am I stiffening again? I glance down. I am.

Which is why I lean across and blow into his ear again. “I love you Piers Nivans.” I whisper softly.

A smile lights up that handsome face, and his sparkling hazel eyes blink open. “I love you too, Captain.”

And so the sex, and therefore the process of healing, begin over again. Not just in my heat of the moment, or for Piers’ long-term future, but for the both of us. Now, and for always.


End file.
